day's end

The ghostly breath on cool panes of window

Hush is the sound of nothing more or less

If death were to turn anew and billow

The sky were grayed while Earth struck with illness

Then broke heroes fixed antagonists

Our loved children would grow to be fearsome 

Perhaps even the lowliest artists

Would kneel to catch sight of what we’ve become

The brink of ends, lower than we’d admit

It’s washing the brain, stunting difference

Compliance is final, burden’s twin

Losses sink fast, they are the evidence

Of a generation bent to fall in

Too late is now, what of words we had omit

40s housewife syndrome by S.R.

I found this on here but I couldn't find the original post or poet but I think it's so nice so read it anyway.

“she’s got a
smile
like a live wire,
spitting and crackling
through lipstick smudged
incisors
sharp enough to
tear your insides out;
she’s got
butter-slick
fingertips
that leave sticky
trails up the juts
of your spine
but you give her
your heart
anyway,
and wonder how her
nail polish
got so chipped
when she’s never done
the washing up
in her life.”
-- s.r. 

Poetry she says,

Poetry, she says,
poetry is eternity,

let the sound and silence break through the barriers of time,
let the existence of different letters craft their ways into words,
into meaning, into love, into greatness, into poetry,

Poetry is the cereal we eat for breakfast,
the way we promise ourselves we will wake up earlier tomorrow,
Poetry puts the morrow in tomorrow,
puts the life in today,

poetry draws the pathway towards acceptance,
leads towards forgiveness,
is the beacon when we are drowning,
the last bit of oxygen when we feel suffocating,

Poetry is the sweet scent of cinnamon pretzels lingering on the corners of your lips,
taste it in the warmth of the glowing sun,
Poetry is birthday candles,
castle building in the pillow soft sand,
while watching the ocean and the shoreline kiss,

Poetry is butterflies tingling in your stomach in the arms of your first love,
arcade games, standing under street lights smiling ,

Poetry is wishing for endless tomorrows,
thankful for each today,

Poetry, she says,
poetry is eternity.